


The Small Lantern

by anzietyfreak



Category: The Book Thief (2013), The Book Thief - Markus Zusak
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Curiosity killed the cat, Dubious Consent, F/M, Hand Jobs, Sort of? - Freeform, but satisfaction brought it back, origin; the depths of hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:39:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anzietyfreak/pseuds/anzietyfreak
Summary: Smut! Rudy goes to the elite Nazi training camp and Liesel is left alone for the summer, with nothing to do. Naturally, she spends every waking moment in the basement with our fave resident jew but what if he needs a little privacy every now and again?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This 'story idea' has crawled out of the depths of hell and implanted itself in my brain. It was pure smut and, at that, entirely tasteless. For this reason, I will not be publishing the... climax... of the story, but you can have this little tidbit, you pervs.
> 
> *skipping down the road at night, singing* I'm going to hell I'm going to hell I'm going to hell

The small lantern by her desk barely illuminated the basement enough to write out her words on the wall with the new chalk Papa bought her the day before. The soft rise and fall of Max's chest and her hands were the only things moving. She practiced her handwriting while he slept. His light breathing was a pleasant rhythm she followed when pausing between letters. It had been like this for weeks. She would sneak down into the basement every night to work on her words and sentences. Only this night Papa and Mama were out for a gathering that she wasn't allowed to go to. She had protested childishly against their wishes for her to stay at home and look after Max, which only solidified their ground that she was too young to go. They didn't tell her what it was even. So here she sat, at nearly midnight, listening to Max breathe and writing out a story in the walls.

She was so lost in her thoughts that when she heard the sound of a raw groan of anguish she nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned to put her back against the wall, trying to calm her heart that was beating heavily in her ears. She stared at where the sound has come from; Max. At first she thought he was having a bad dream so she tiptoed her way over to him and knelt down. She couldn't see his flop of brown feathers anywhere– only the thin blanket that sheltered him from the cold. He tossed and turned a bit under the cover. She tentatively laid her hand on what she thought was his chest. She couldn't tell the difference from his body parts and nervously fumbled around his body trying to find his shoulders to wake him up from his bad dream. Her hand landed on something hard that might've been his wrist and she squeezed experimentally, trying to get a grip on it. The same groan sounded again he tossed again, rolling towards her this time. His head and one shoulder fell out from under the blanket and her sixteen year old mind suddenly realised where her hand was. It couldn't be his wrist for it was in the centre of his body and it was an odd width.

She connected the dots and her eyes widened into the bridge of her eyebrows.

Rudy left her only a month ago and there was still two more to go before he came back. Without him she was lonely and Max could only keep her company as long as she stayed in the basement, so she had taken to spending her days underground with him.

The thing in her hand was standing up proudly straight at this point and she had no quells about what it was. She couldn't let go through her mortification. Her right hand squeezed again softly. It twitched. His breathing sped up and his face twisted into a pained look. Another moan was halfway being ripped through his throat when his eyes shot open. He was facing her as she leaned over him with her hand on his manhood. There was no explanation she could give him to prove her innocence, she realised dejectedly. Without her own volition her right hand crept up his length and settled on his tip trough his thin trousers and cotton blanket. Her eyes stayed on his the whole time, neither of them having the courage look at what she was doing to him. His face had a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look and her own cheeks were flaming too. Small movements of her right hand had him closing his eyes again as he flinched away another groan.

"Liesel," he whispered into the cold air of the basement. He pulled the blanked off his roasting body and her hand fell away, "What are you doing?"

She replied in a whisper, "I was helping." A raw and broken laugh escaped his throat that was so recently moaning under her touch.


	2. zweiter teil. part two.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a continuation of something that should not have even began.
> 
> your welcome.

"Liesel," he whispered into the cold air of the basement. He pulled the blanked off his roasting body and her hand fell away, "What are you doing?" 

She replied in a whisper, "I was helping." A raw and broken laugh escaped his throat that was so recently moaning under her touch, "Helping with what? I- What would your Papa say if he saw what you were just doing to me?" He scolded lightly, desperately trying to get her to retreat. He couldn't count how many times he had dreamed about her doing those unimaginable things to him down in that basement. This felt like another one of his sex-depraved dreams. He couldn't count how long it had been since a woman touched him either.

In his dreams she would always take charge like the bossy little thing she was. Last week she'd leant down to check for more chalk around the corners of the room and he grew instantly hard- only from the sight of the slight curve of the bottom of her arse cheeks. He'd dreamt about it when she'd left, finally. His hand crept down and he'd jerked his hand on himself to the image of her ivory skin imprinted in his mind. He couldn’t look her in the eye the day afterwards.

His bright eyes stared her down in the dim light. Just remembering those dreams had him so painfully hard that the material of his thin pants were stimulating him. Her hand had retreated, but as he moved to try and sit up to put distance between them, her hand shot out again. It pushed against his shoulder and all of a sudden she had straddled him with a newfound confidence and pushed him back into the blanket covered ground. His bony shoulder landed dug into the ground and he hissed in pain. She fumbled with her lower body while finding a comfortable place to rest her hips on him. He pushed himself up against her frantically. Then she found a place in between his lower stomach and his hip bones. She ground against his pubic bones experimentally and his hard throbbing member brushed against the curve of her backside. 

He hissed from another emotion then. She had definitely filled out during that last few years since he met her.

His hands shot up to her hips to stop her but she only leaned back more into his arousal in retribution. The soft material of her thin nightgown was the only thing between his skin and her wet core, since he slept topless. His ratty shirt he arrived in did little to ebb away the cold of the basement and only made him feel stale once he woke in the same clothes as yesterday. He was going insane in that basement.

Her hands reached down from his strong shoulders for a moment and lifted her nightgown up and over her shoulders to toss it on the ground somewhere. It made a rattling sound as it hit the only lamp and knocked it down. All light from the basement diminished.

With one of his senses gone, his others were heightened. He could feel her heat on his skin. It was wet and dripping into his stomach erotically, and warm. Very warm. The tension in his loins was unbearable. He needed his release. 

Desperately.

His hands moved up to feel the softness he knew he would meet. They barely got an idea of their where her breasts were, before his hands were being held against the ground at his sides. Her round and milky hips suddenly wiggled down his body, bringing her womanhood down with them. He could no longer feel her on his skin and in his sleep addled mental state he knew he couldn't fight his hands free against the strangely strong sixteen year old. Whether it was a lack of physical strength or just willpower, he couldn’t tell. His brain was elsewhere interested. She let one of his hands go in order to shove down his pants from behind her. The drawstring holding them up gave away as she undid the small bow and pushed them down his thighs. Her thumb brushed against his balls and he groaned loudly, "N' - ahhh." His free left hand shot straight up until it hit something solid. It landed on her shoulder in the pitch black and he fumbled his way down to them. They were full and not too big. They fit just right on her and were close enough together that he could drag his middle finger down the centre of them. She moaned at the feeling. A victorious grin broken out of his face– it was quickly wiped off as she impaled herself on his wide length. 

The sin of all sins; the willing corruption of the only virtue left in his life, Liesel Meminger.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth fell open wide at the feeling of her warm walls gripping him tightly. She clenched her muscles around him. He almost lost it.

She grinded herself on him and his left hand was being pushed into the ground again. He couldn't see or feel anything apart from the strong, warm, wet grip she had on his manhood.

Liesel leaned forward to tease him with her breasts. Her hard nipples were dragged across the skin of his chest. The feeling was euphoric for both of them and she moaned again from the back of her throat, clenching her insides around him again. It was clumsy and accidental but it felt good for them both.

She used her knees to pushed herself up off him and let herself drop again. She did it again. She pushed her chest against his body, desperate to feel the static in her nipples again. Hers rubbed against his hard ones and they both moaned into the darkness. She was grinding her hips and nipples against him like she would do to the pillow in her bedroom when her foster parents weren't at home. This feeling was so much better. She told him as such. "I used to imagine it was you when I'd push your old pillow against me. I used to touch myself in your old bed—" His arms tried to fight their way free but she only pushed them down harder until it was painful.

"Have you ever dreamed about me, Max?" She asked in a voice that was so far from innocent it should've been illegal. He was painfully hard in her as she as dragged herself up and down leisurely on him. Like he was her toy. "Have you?" The was a hard edge to her voice when he didn't answer and she stopped moving. She leant away from him so he couldn't feel her breath on his chest anymore.

"Of course I have," he whispered brokenly, "Ever since two years ago when I was in your room instead of down here," she started the grinding up again, rolling her hips in a figure of eight against his upper thighs and groin, "One morning you were getting ready for school and you were late. You didn't have time to change in the bathroom and got dressed in your room, thinking I was asleep. I wasn't."

She let out a gasp of arousal and tightened her hold on him from inside her body.

"You watched me get dressed?" she asked not-rudely.

"It was so arousing to see you flit around in only your brassiere that you were already filling. That round ass and your hips," he groaned, "You leaned down right beside my bed to get something you dropped and you were so close to my face I could smell you." She blushed at his words. She had no idea.

She let go of his hands to hold onto the stairways wooden steps above them. She used them as leverage so she could bounce on his length properly. He gripped her hips so tightly that they would bruise as he hoisted her up and pulled her back down viciously as she rode him. They spent a lifetime like that. A physical soliloquy. She would pull and push herself up and land back down his manhood, bringing quietened screams from them both. Again. He groaned as she climaxed for the second time around him. His testicles tightened as he felt his climax arriving at last. They both reached their end together. 

After she drew the last of his cum out of him she paused. He was breathing erratically from beneath her and she needed a break from their strenuous exercise.

He never told her that she was his first. She never told him he wasn't hers.


End file.
